


Fool's Mate

by ShaneShenanigans



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneShenanigans/pseuds/ShaneShenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Krem wasn't sure what he was doing but it seemed like good fun at the time. Cullen wasn't sure what he was feeling but he knew it was going to bite him in the ass later. In the end, neither can explain why he is drawn to the other. But explanations are overrated and never came close to the solace that could be found in his eyes and arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Basque System

He sat in front of the board, still, hands folded on his lap, eyes fixed on the empty chair across from him. The wind blew softly threw the garden and the feathers on his collar tickled his face under its influence. But he didn’t move.  
  
He was tired. Not in that he needed sleep, but just exhausted, and for no reason. Things had been slower since the end of the war, but he almost would have preferred them hectic. He was better off with something to occupy his mind.  
  
But today didn’t present such an opportunity. And it seemed as if the inquisitor had officially stood him up for chess.  
  
Probably Dorian’s fault.  
  
  
  
Krem came to a screeching halt on his heels in the garden. He scowled at nothing, because he saw nothing, and then whipped around in various directions, looking for a flash of long blond hair to give chase. He was soaking wet and he could see mud on his nose and where ever else on his face and likely in his hair. Ever since Dalish had hit it off with that elf that lived in the tavern she’d been pulling dumb pranks left and right.  
  
This time it was only so elaborate as “trip Krem as he tries to hop a puddle so he falls face first into it instead.” He was going to murder her.  
  
The garden was mostly empty despite the weather, side a few wanderers on the far end. But Dalish was nowhere to be seen.  
  
He’d turned hard on his heel and was about to leave, when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Under the overhang across the garden there was a table, an empty chair, and a figure sitting across from it.  
  
He looked… slouched. And ridiculous, sitting alone, just sort of staring at the table in front of him. He was far from where Krem was standing, but yellow on top of read was hard to mistake for anyone else.  
  
Krem regarded him quietly for just a few moments. He knew he hadn’t been noticed— Cullen seemed far too lost in thought. He considered, and then he started in Cullen’s direction.  
  
“Commander?” He said, stepping under the overhang as he spoke. Cullen’s eyes flicked up to him, wide with surprise, like he hadn’t heard him coming at all.  
  
Krem paused when their eyes met, realizing that he’d just strolled up, soaking wet with mud on his face and then stopped in front of him. And now he was just standing there with wide eyes, not entirely certain why he came over to begin with.  
  
Cullen’s appeared surprised too, but he hadn’t moved. He was still slouched there, and he was just dumbly waiting for Krem to speak, or leave, or dance, or do something.  
  
Krem cleared his throat, and stood up straight. He wasn’t really _that_ kind of soldier anymore but something about Cullen being his superior made him default to acting like it.  
  
“Everything all right, ser?” He asked.  
  
Cullen regarded him silently for a few moments, then looked down at the board in front of him, brows furrowed. It was as if he was still in the process of slowly returning to earth from… wherever he was.  
  
“Ah, yes…” Cullen said, feigning having come out of some trance at first before falling right back into it.  
  
Krem tilted his head curiously. _Is he okay?_ The board was set up, so he noted. Had Cullen been waiting for an opponent who never showed?  
  
Krem looked out into the garden, considering how Dalish was probably long gone and in hiding by now, then to the door that would have lead him to the main hall, then back to the chair across from Cullen.  
  
Making up his mind, he lifted his hand to his face and wiped the drying mud off in the places he could feel it. Then he strolled across the distance between him and the chair, and casually pulled it back, and fell into it. “So.” He scooted himself in with interest as he looked over the board. “How do you play this, anyway?”  
  
Cullen looked at him in surprise, and it took a moment to set in. Cremisius Aclassi, the lieutenant of the Bull’s Chargers. The man Cullen had begun to regard as their more adept leader as Iron Bull seemed to mostly get drunk and compliment people on their rear end.  
  
All though he also drank a lot, and stood on chairs. And he was wet, and had drying mud on the side of his nose. Cullen chose not to ask.  
  
Instead he cleared his throat, and sat up straight. “The rules aren’t very difficult.” He began, trying to gather the words his sister had told him years and years ago the first time he played. Then he stopped, realizing that he’d been a child when he learned. He looked up to Krem curiously. “You’ve never played chess before?”  
  
Krem shrugged. “Not sure they have it in Tevinter. Not that I had many chances to find out.” He seemed to be observing the board and its pieces curiously, but not touching. “Since I left there I’ve mostly just been killing things. Playing is mostly just cards.”  
  
Cullen accepted this, and went on. “Well, it appears simple, but it’s strategy-based. So if you think well good in battle scenarios, you should catch on quick.” He said. “Probably why the Inquisitor is so awful at it.”  
  
Krem laughed, and it was short, but loud, and it took Cullen by surprise. “What?” he asked.  
  
Krem snickered again, and shook his head. “Just wasn’t expecting the trash talk.”  
  
Cullen may have laughed under his breath. “It’s just truth.” He snickered. “I suppose that’s why he’s been playing less and less.”  
  
Krem stood. “All right.” He said, as if having decided something.  
  
Cullen looked up, rather disappointed that he seemed to be leaving so soon. Though it was probably for the best, there was likely something else Cullen could occupy his time with.  
  
“I’m going to go change into dry clothes and clean up.” He said. “Then you teach me to play.”  
  
Cullen’s eyes widened in slight surprise. “…You want to play?” He was the polar opposite of disappointed. But Krem was… well, he had all the Bull’s Chargers, his friends who he always had drinks with and Iron Bull, who he seemed to always follow into some crazy scheme at least once a week. Chess? He’d probably find it to be a drag in comparison.  
  
“Well it sounds to me like someone has to kick your arse at it.” Krem answered. “Might as well be me.”  With a challenging grin, he turned to leave, and that was that.  
  
Cullen stayed and waited for him to return, idly straightening crooked pieces as he did.  
  
  
Cullen was almost surprised when he actually did return.  
  
“All right, Commander.” He said. Instead of sitting down immediately he flipped the chair around backwards and took his seat with his legs wrapped around the front, arms folded over the top and chin rested on his wrist. “Teach me how to play.”  
  
A grin quirked at the corner of Cullen’s mouth, and he cleared his throat, and then leaned forward to pick up a pawn.  
  
“Now these are… well, they’re like everyday soldiers. Valuable and numerous but with no special abilities… but they shouldn’t be overlooked or underestimated…” He went on, and Krem may have smiled slightly behind his hand.  
  
  
  
  
The first few games ended quickly, but Krem was clearly getting the hang of it. He never had to ask what moves a specific piece could make more than twice for any given one, and his moves became quite strategic by the beginning of the fourth game. His technique seemed original and planned to his liking as well, not just a copy of Cullen’s like Lavellan’s had begun to morph into.  
  
Cullen wouldn’t admit it, but while he was yet to win, he appeared to be something of a natural. Moreso, the concentrated, concerned, and interested look on his face suggested he was enjoying himself.  
  
“The king is pretty pathetic, isn’t he?” Krem made this statement when he seemed particularly worried about his own.  
  
Cullen chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to be a citizen of either of these kingdoms, you’re right.”  
  
“I wouldn’t mind.” Krem shrugged. “The queen seems powerful enough.”  
  
“True.” Cullen agreed. “The King must be incredibly good-looking in order to have earned her hand.”  
  
Krem laughed loudly, and nodded as he moved his queen into a spot that offered protection for his king.  
  
Both were almost entirely too concentrated on their next move or the move of the other to notice a third approaching the table. Once he arrived, Cullen looked up.  
  
“There you are!” He glared. The Inquisitor stood before them, observing the game board and its state. He had his hand under his chin and his eyes were puffy, and his hair was more of a mess than usual. “Did you only just roll out of bed?” Cullen glared.  
  
“Yes.” Lavellan answered, nonchalantly.  
  
“It’s the middle of the day!”  
  
Lavellan ignored him, still looking at the game board. “You’re both good at this.” He concluded.  
  
“At very least, better than his last partner.” Krem said, and Lavellan looked at him with slight daggers in his eyes. Krem looked away fast “…or so I’ve heard…” he corrected himself, and then scratched the back of his head.  
  
Cullen laughed under his breath, and watched in disappointment as Krem made a somewhat unwise move in his lack of concentration. He chose not to mention anything, and took out the knight that had been moved into a vulnerable position. Krem seemed to notice his mistake immediately and sort of silently huffed to himself over it as he was forced to rethink any strategy he may have had.  
  
“Was there something you needed, Inquisitor?” Cullen asked. He was just hovering there, looking somewhat like a zombie that had recently risen from the grave.  
  
Lavellan hummed. “No. Sorry I missed our date. Nice to see you found someone else to play with.” He reached out to touch one of the pieces on the board, but Cullen caught his hand by the wrist to stop it. He pushed it back, a gesture to which Lavellan did not outwardly object.  
  
Lavellan pursed his lips, and scratched his head, and looked around. “Have you seen Dorian?” He asked amidst a yawn. “He got out of bed before me this morning.”  
  
“That may have something to do with the fact that he actually wakes up in the morning.” Cullen said. “But, no, I haven’t seen him.”  
  
Lavellan hummed again, regarded the game board one last time, and then wandered off.  
  
“Everyone’s been more laid-back since the war ended, but he’s always been that way, hasn’t he?” Krem asked.  
  
Cullen laughed under his breath. “Just about, yes.” He said. “He seemed a little ridiculous and almost useless at first. But he is a good leader. The best I’ve known, and I’ll never lose respect for that. He’s earned his followers.”  
  
“A little bit like the king, then.” Krem said, as he moved his own a space to the left.  
  
Cullen smirked. “If the king could pull blades out of thin air or freeze you in ice with a clap of his hands and then shatter you into pieces, I’d imagine so.”  
  
   
  
Their final game lasted almost three hours. Cullen still won, but he was given a run for his money, which was a pleasant change. But given the challenge, it was now late in the day, and he was likely behind on his work. He was surprised that not a single soldier had come running to him asking questions or requesting assistance. He wondered vaguely if they were slacking without his command.  
  
They mutually agreed that it was enough for one day, but Krem added that he wasn’t going to let it be the last, and that he wouldn’t lose next time.  
  
  
  
  
When Krem strolled into the tavern the sun was just about to set. He heard a familiar roar of a laugh as he walked in and spotted big obnoxious horns sitting at the bar counter surrounded by his company.  
  
Dalish’s long blond hair wasn’t present, though, so he noted, and neither was Sera’s.  
  
He realized, somewhat disappointedly as he approached, that he hadn’t drank anything all day. Had he really been too distracted to even realize his hand was empty? He wasn’t an alcoholic to his own knowledge but typically he did get a particular kind of thirsty if he went too long without a bottle or two.  
  
Regardless, he was thirsty now, and this was a tavern. His problems were gone if they had ever arisen.  
  
He strolled up behind the group and casually squeezed in between Grim and Iron Bull, who was in the process of chugging something. His eyes moved down to Krem as booze ran down his chin from the sides of his mouth.  
  
He seemed to be torn between greeting his lieutenant and pausing in his drinking. In the end he didn’t stop until the mug was empty, slammed it down, and wrapped an arm around Krem’s neck. Which was a little like having a flexible tree-trunk around your neck, pulling you against a uniquely odorous chest.  
  
That not-so-new qunari smell.  
  
Krem rolled his eyes as his cheek was squished against the spot right next to Iron Bull’s armpit. “There you are!” He said. “We haven’t seen you all day!” It was common knowledge that Bull got somewhat more cuddly when he’d been drinking.  
  
“Sorry about that, I got held up.” Krem answered, casually. Once he was released, he picked up a bottle which Grim had kindly and speechlessly slid in front of him. He brought it to his lips and tilted it back. Nothing felt as refreshing as it slid down his throat.  
  
“Playing chess games?” Rocky said teasingly, and then barked out laughing.  
  
“Oh, and here you said no one had seen me all day.” Krem glared at him but he was smirking slightly behind his drink.  
  
“Wait now, does that mean he didn’t want to be seen?” Rocky offered as he nudged Iron Bull’s waist with his elbow.  
  
“Now, now.” Bull interjected. “It’s none of our business if Krem wanted to spend time with our esteemed army commander!” He said, and then off-handedly added “For _four hours_.”  
  
Krem shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You idiots need hobbies.”  
  
“Which are you suggesting I take up? Boring games, or hot blonds with troubled pasts?” Iron Bull nudged him suggestively and he shoved the qunari sideways and hard into Skinner. She spilled her drink on her pants and then slammed her mug down.  
  
“Damn it Krem!” She barked. She pulled her knees up to her chest, turned sideways, and braced her heels against Iron Bull’s right arm.  
  
“Hey! What do you think I—.”  
  
“Wait! No, I’m sor—,” Both Krem and Bull were cut off when she sprung her legs out and sent Bull flying into him. She not only knocked Krem backwards onto the ground, but Grim off his seat as well as an unsuspecting and formerly peacefully drinking patron next to him.  
  
Iron Bull sprung himself off the ground almost instantly. “Damn it Skinner!” He roared. “Do I look like a wrecking ball to you!?”  
  
She shrugged, and took a sip of her now slightly less filled drink. “He started it.”  
  
Krem got to his feet quickly. Grim had managed to hold himself up against the bar counter, but the young woman who’d been sitting next to him didn’t far so well. She was on the ground with drink spilled all over her violet dress.  
  
He hurried to her side, and rushingly helped her up off the ground.  
  
She seemed slightly in shock, and her eyes were having a hard time tearing themselves away from the spill on her clothes.  
  
“Sorry about that.” Krem said quickly as he assisted her to her feet. “Bunch of idiots.” He barked back at the group. He turned back to her, and it was involuntarily noted that yeah, she was cute. She was human, with brown skin and curly dark red hair and freckles.  
  
“Setting yourself apart, then?” She smiled.  
  
“Ah…” Krem nodded, somewhat awkwardly, but she had a point. “Right, my bad then. I apologize. We’re _all_ idiots.”  
  
“No harm done.” She shook her head, brushed some dirt off her arm. “As far as I can tell that is.” She straightened her dress, and then nodded sharply with a grin and a peppy tilt of her head. “Thanks for helping me up. I’m Eda.” She introduced.  
  
“Cremisius.” He replied. “No problem at all.” He nodded, and bowed slightly as he turned on his heel to return to the bar counter.  
  
Iron Bull cleared his throat and lifted his mug to speak into it. “She’s still standing there, Krem. She looks disappointed.”  
  
Krem lifted his bottle to his lips and spoke into it inconspicuously as well. “She’s also a redhead, isn’t that up your alley?”  
  
Iron Bull chuckled. “Maybe, but those starry eyes aren’t for me.”  
  
Krem’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Starry eyes? He didn’t want to look, but was Bull just being an asshole or was he serious?  
  
“She’s blushing and her hands are folded against the front of her dress. I think she forgot how to walk.”  
  
Krem’s eyes were bulging out of the front of his head now. If he turned to look she’d just become more embarrassed, but at the same time, he needed to know if he was just being messed with. Not that Iron Bull had ever done such a thing but he wouldn’t have put it past him.  
  
Krem heard hurried tell-tale footsteps from behind him.  
  
“She just ran out of the tavern.” Bull confirmed. “Well, you officially suck.”  
  
Krem rolled his eyes at the drama queen next to him. He felt bad, but… she’d be all right.  
  
  
  
It was a solid week before the next time Cullen approached him, and it took Krem completely by surprise. He remembered what was said but whether or not he would be held to it remained to be seen. He and Cullen walked in different circles and it was rare for them to just unintentionally run into each other and start chatting and planning chess dates.  
  
But, Cullen had apparently gone out of his way. He came upon Krem during a group training session that Iron Bull had organized for the Chargers.  
  
Right away, he’d given Bull a nod of understanding, meaning to imply “I see you’re busy, I’ll come back later” but Bull called out to him before he’d fully turned away.  
  
“You’re here for Krem, right?” He’d said. “Krem!” He then shouted, and nodded his head in Cullen’s direction when Krem looked up. He wasn’t wearing the usual armor— sweating and breathing heavy, wiping his face with a towel as he approached the commander. Instead he was in a brown, loose-fitting collared shirt.  
  
Cullen’s eyes bulged a little when they fell upon his upper arms— they were huge. Larger than his own, quite easily. He knew that Krem swung around a ridiculously huge axe in a fight— he remembered  but he was usually so armor-clad that you couldn’t really see what was driving that.  
  
But _those_. Cullen’s eyes shifted from one to the other. _Those were driving that._  
  
And then all of the sudden, Krem was in front of him.  
  
Cullen’s face may have turned five different shades of red because here he was interrupting a clearly focused and intense training session— it must’ve been intense, judging by the sweat dripping slowly down Krem’s neck to the junction of his shoulder.  
  
And for what? A game?  
  
No— that was ridiculous. But then what was his excuse for coming here?  
  
Cullen sighed quickly. “I— apologize.” He said, looking away somewhat awkwardly. His face felt hot and he found himself having to catch his breath. “I didn’t intend to interrupt—,”  
  
“It’s fine.” Krem now interrupted. “We’ve been out here all day, I wouldn’t mind a break.” He paused for a minute as if considering.”And a drink.” He added, rubbing his neck and smearing the droplets into a thin layer of wet that glistened under the sun.  
  
“But is that all right with…” Cullen looked over Krem’s shoulder to Iron Bull, who nearly made him jump out of his skin when he met his threatening gaze. He seemed to be staring him down.  
  
“The Chief?” Iron Bull’s scowl immediately softened when Krem turned to face him.  
  
“Chief!” He shouted. “Commander Cullen just offered to buy us all drinks!”  
  
Cullen’s face immediately turned sour. But Iron Bull and the rest of the charges that were present all threw their fists in the air and shouted gleefully. Krem turned back to face Cullen with a sheepish grin.  
  
“What are you doing?” He demanded.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll split it with you, let’s just go.” He started nudging Cullen away, in the direction of the tavern with both hands. Cullen tried to protest but Krem’s prodding hands were persistent, so his words died on his tongue and he continued forward grudgingly as the others followed.  
  
There were roughly nine of them present and on their way to the tavern. This would leave a dent in both of their pockets. Cullen didn’t mind a whole lot, it wasn’t as if he was lacking in coin. The Inquisition itself was filthy rich, it was just the principal of volunteering him for such a thing.  
  
  
  
  
He hadn’t considered until he was sitting among them, tense and having squeezed himself into the smallest space possible, that the bill wasn’t the worst thing about this plan. He didn’t dislike Iron Bull or the Chargers as a whole, but he very much preferred to appreciate them from a distance.  
  
“You okay there?” Krem nudged him with an elbow.  
  
Cullen scoffed, and turned to him immediately, glaring. “Why would you do this?” He demanded, and then in a lower voice.  
  
Krem shrugged. “You don’t have to stay. I just wanted an excuse to finish for the day. The only reason he’s putting us through such rough training is because he wants us all to go out and take down that dragon that was spotted in west Orlais. Which is all good, but not a cause I’m entirely willing to train well into the night for.”  
  
“You volunteered me to pay for drinks!” Cullen whispered angrily, jerking his thumb in the direction of the others.  
  
Krem hummed with a slight hint of guilt. “Sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else that would make the Chief put down that giant stick he found.”  
  
Cullen sighed heavily, and shook his head. “It’s fine.” He said, looking at the drink in front of him. “I don’t mind letting lose, I suppose it’s just…” A loud, impossibly obnoxious laugh sounded from the group beside him. “…This isn’t really my ideal company.”  
  
Krem laughed. “Sorry about that.” He turned, and smiled. “Just us next time.”  
  
“Yes.” Cullen sighed, still overwhelmed, and knowing he would remain that way until this was over. “That sounds better.”  
  
Krem eyed him wonderingly through narrowed eyes as he tilted his head back to let the wine roll down his throat.  
  
“Want a game later?” He suggested.  
  
“That depends. Will you be sober?” Cullen asked, rather sarcastically.  
  
Krem laughed. “Probably not, but I promise you’ll barely be able to tell the difference. You might even like me better.”  
  
Cullen snickered a little, but nodded in the end. “That would be nice.” It had, after all, been the reason he’d come around in the first place.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
It was after dark, and though Cullen had offered to call it off and let them both sleep but Krem insisted. So they ended up playing chess under the glow of torchlight in an empty garden. Krem vaguely wondered why Cullen liked to play here specifically. Hell, when he’d found him he was just sitting there by himself, seemingly just lost in thought. It must’ve been a relaxing place for him.  
  
“I always thought they were weird, like they didn’t make sense.” Cullen was speaking, but Krem had been lost in thought and only caught his words halfway through. He was holding a knight in his hand. “All the other pieces have such basic sets of moves and limits, but the knight’s is completely different from the rest of them.” He made his move, with the knight, three down and one over.  
  
Krem laughed. “Makes you think whoever invented the game just didn’t know what else to do with it.” He made his move as well.  
  
Cullen laughed a little as well. “Maybe.” He said. “It’s so old… there’s probably no way to find out.”  
  
“My sister used to tell me I was a rook.” Cullen went on, and Krem listened. “Because I always took the straightest route, no matter where to, and never cut any corners.”  
  
Krem pursed his lips and considered. “If you’re a rook that probably makes me a pawn.” He snickered.  
  
Cullen smirked. “I don’t know about that, but don’t underestimate pawns. If a pawn makes it behind enemy lines he can rescue the queen. He’s the only one who can.”  
  
Krem squinted. “What?”  
  
Cullen’s eyes widened, and he blinked. “I didn’t tell you that?”  
  
“No, you didn’t.” Krem was mostly amused.  
  
“Oh.” Cullen scratched his head, embarrassed. “Yes…” He cleared his throat. “If… you’re able to get a pawn to the other side of the board, and your queen is out of the game, you can bring her back.”  
  
Krem snickered at the board in front of him, at how he’d been scrambling to handle his troops after having foolishly lost his queen early in the game. That would have been a nice piece of information to have.  
  
“Maybe we should try this again another time?” Cullen suggested.  
  
“Sounds good. Not sure I’m feeling it anymore.”  
  
Cullen nodded in agreement and started picking up the pieces. Krem leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms.  
  
He then folded his arms behind his head, and stretched out his legs. His foot accidentally nudged against Cullen’s— and it _was_ an accident. But, decidedly, he left it there. Cullen shifted to reach for a piece across the board and their legs rubbed up against one-another’s, he still didn’t move.  
  
Cullen’s eyes flicked up to him, and Krem was looking away. His eyes lingered there on his profile for longer than intended, tracing the line of his jaw up to his ear, his cheek bone to his eye, nose to his lips. His breath caught in his throat, and he looked down immediately.  
  
He swallowed hard, and focused back on what he was doing, moving his foot away from Krem’s, who immediately turned to face him at the sudden flinch-away. Cullen ignored his gaze.  
  
“Well, I think I’ll turn in.” Krem said as he stood.  
  
“Right.” Cullen said quickly, almost too quickly. “I… yes I plan to as well.” His eyes were still fixed on the board despite that it was all picked up. He was leaning over it with both hands flat on the table, standing now, as if trying to gather himself.  
  
Krem regarded him quietly for a few moments, and then spoke up. “Maybe we can make up this game tomorrow?” He suggested carefully.  
  
“Yes.” Cullen nodded. “That’s fine.” He still didn’t want to look up. That was fine, too.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Once again, the game was thwarted. This time by Inquisitor Lavellan. Scouts had returned with information on movement and activity near Haven's ruins. Since they had been successful in their first mission, he'd opted to send the Charges in again. With some light military backup of course, as he had a knack for being too careful.  
  
On this occaasion Iron Bull would be leading up the charge. His interest wasn't exactly clear but it was assumed he simple had nothing better to do.  
  
"But did you see anything big?" Bull spread his arms wide out around him. Lavellan was standing next him, nodding for emphasis.  
  
"And, I don't know... maybe, with wings?"  
  
"I'm not sure..." The scout said, confused and looking more than just intimidated. Cullen watched with concern, thinking if he were being interrogated first hand by the Inquisitor himself and a massive horned creature, he'd be worried too.  
  
"Do you remember any loud roars?" Lavellan cut in. "Or shrieks?" The scout took a step back as he advanced.  
  
"Work with us, kid." Bull advised, and he scout just shook her head, debating on how to reply, wondering if it were some kind of test.    
  
Cullen spotted Krem Aclassi looking on as well, and it was almost second nature to approach him.  
  
"Do they know they've already passed the information to Leliana?" He asked in a low voice.  Behind him his soldiers were helping load the caravan with supplies.  
  
"I suspect. But The Chief likes to keep his fingers crossed." Krem grinned over his shoulder. Cullen shook his head, chuckling slightly. That scout was about to turn on her heel and run for it, but they had all but surrounded her, making obnoxious and exaggerated flapping gestures and imitating dragon sounds.  
  
"I'm suprised the Inquisitor is coming along." Krem said. "I mean, he can't really think there might be a high dragon out there, can he?"  
  
"Maker knows what runs through that man's head."  
  
"Speaking of." Krem turned to face him. "Are you coming?"    
  
"No, no." Cullen shook his head. "Just here to see the men off and have my lieutenant relay some last minute orders."    
  
"Aw." Krem drawled. "Got me all excited."  
  
Cullen's eyes bulged with confusion, and he cleared his throat quickly, though it came out as more of a cough.    
  
"Anyway, then." Krem turned from him. "Wish us luck." He waved with a held up backwards hand and a smile tossed over his shoulder.  
  
Cullen's return smile was crooked and stretched as he awkward raised his hand. "Right. Good luck." He managed to say.  
   
"Oh, the Commander's coming?" A hand came down on Cullen's shoulder. "Maybe I'll finally get to see you in action on the front lines." He spoke as he walked on by, and Cullen didn’t get a chance to correct him. "That is, if I'm not one-on-one with a dragon." He cackled as his voice faded out.  
   
"You should come." Lavellan came by next with his input, walking backwards with a grin that Cullen may have chosen to read as vindictive. "We're yet to fight side-by-side. It'll be interesting." With that he turned on his heel to follow after Bull, intentionally not leaving time for retort.  
   
"Going somewhere, Commander?" A third voice set him off on his last nerve, and he turned harshly to face Leliana.  
   
"What are you doing out here?" He asked.  
  
"I got word of someone harassing one of my agents." She said, but quickly changed the subject. "If you're going to be joining the troops on this mission, I must admit it's unusual, but Josie and I can hold down the fort.”  
  
“No, no, I’m not—,”  
  
A fourth and final voice as someone reached up to pat his shoulder. “Come on, Curly, it’ll be good for you.” Varric said.  
  
“Oh look, even my worried mother is going.” Cullen gestured after him, shouting loud enough for Varric to hear, which caused him to laugh loudly as he strolled after the crowd.  
  
“So, are you?” Leliana asked, hands linked behind her back as she waited curiously for an answer.  
  
Cullen sighed, looking after them, and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been thinking earlier that it might be interesting to see first-hand what state Haven was in. But at the same time, while the loss may have been the event that lead to a strengthened fortress, it was a bitter failure of a memory.  
  
He looked to the caravan and as he did, linked eyes with Krem from across the yard, who casually looked away a moment later. Cullen sighed deeply, and shook his head as he took a step toward the crowd.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
He’d hardly left Skyhold since the battle at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And when he did, it was minor issues, business or some agreement that he was required to oversee personally. He didn’t think he’d been in real combat since the Arbor Wilds. Training fumbling new recruits only went so far— he wondered if he’d gotten rusty.  
  
“I see you decided to come after all.” The voice came before a face, and Cullen looked up as a dark grey dracolisk fell in line beside his horse. He looked at it warily, but then turned to the rider.  
  
“There was some convincing.” Cullen admitted. “Why are you…” Cullen didn’t know how to say it. He gestured toward the dracolisk Krem was riding.  
  
“Hm? His name’s Spindleweed.” Krem introduced as he leaned forward and patted the dracolisk’s neck. “Ever since skyhold got them in the chief’s insisted we all ride them.”  
  
Cullen watched the creature, looking at it’s face, studying it silently. Until its eye moved to look directly back at him and he winced, and looked immediately away. Anywhere else, and made a point not to look at it again.  
  
Anywhere else turned out to be the side of Krem’s face. He had a sharp profile, a high and well-defined cheek bone. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed, and his lips were swollen from the cold.  
  
Cullen found his eyes stuck to them, and he found that his heart thudded harder against his chest. When he confronted himself with his own thoughts, he quickly raised his hand to his mouth in shock. The shock drifted away quickly, and he ended up dragging his finger gently across his own lips as he let those thoughts return and this time, didn’t shew them away.  
  
His eyes shifted slowly back to Krem, just to watch from their corners.  
  
“Watch where you’re going!” A second horse veered quickly away from his as he almost clashed with it, and he quickly pulled the reigns to avoid the collision. The rider glared hard at him before moving clear across the path. Cullen didn’t recognize him, but his uniform— or lack-thereof, suggested he was one of the chargers.  
  
“Sorry, sorry.” He mumbled, somewhat sarcastically. Maybe he would have given the guy a piece of his mind, but he knew it was his fault. Clearing his throat hard, he straightened himself on the horse, and looked straight ahead.  
  
He remembered the journey from Haven to Skyhold well, despite how long ago it had been. Something told him they were only a few hours away.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! I'm finally doing this nonsense. I'm not really sure what the future holds for these two. Probably angst because Cullen is a little bit of an angsty guy, but mostly fluff. Probably smut even though I'm bad at it. Basically these two nerds are going to slowly fall deeply in love because they are beautiful.
> 
> On the chess thing: I know chess is kind of regarded as Dorian and Cullen's or the Inquisitor and Cullen's thing but look at me I gave it to Krem because plot device.
> 
> Also Spindleweed the dracolisk is my bro.
> 
> Promise for next chapter: KISSES.


	2. Absolute Pin

From an elevated distance, it looked peaceful. The same as it had the first time he arrived from Kirkwall, even. From far off it was hard to tell that all of the homes and places of business had been destroyed.   
  
But when they arrived closer, it was apparent, and almost nerve wracking. The majority was still mostly buried in snow, onto which a fresh blanket was currently falling. The chantry building was only half uncovered, and the inquisition's banner had long since been torn away.   
  
"Makes you uneasy, doesn't it?" Varric appeared beside him on foot. Cullen glanced at him, and then looked back to Haven. "I wonder if it's haunted?" With that he strode past Cullen toward the ruins.   
  
"Krem!" Iron Bull's voice rang out. "Take the men and accompany the commander, we'll scout around the perimeter."   
  
"Looking for dragons there, chief?" Krem called back.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous." Iron Bull replied as he turned on his particular large and thick-legged dracolisk. "If there were a dragon here we would have seen it already!" Despite his words he may have shared a devious look with Inquisitor Lavellan, before he, Lavellan, and Cassandra, and Varric turned away with the intent of going off on their own.  
  
"So apparently the actual investigation is being left to us." Cullen scoffed, rather under his breath, but he didn't know Spindlweed was trotting up beside him as he spoke. That was, until he heard a small gurgling noise that nearly scared him off his horse.   
  
"Don't worry." Krem was there on foot when Cullen turned in surprise, holding the dracolisk by the reigns. “Bull can handle himself." He assured, before leading the dracolisk toward the former Haven stable, where the others also seemed content tying their mounts.   
  
"That's..." Cullen started. "Not exactly my concern." But Krem was already out of earshot. In truth Cullen didn't really believe there was any real or immediate danger. At most he expected they might find a hide-out of apostates, or just those seeking shelter on the road.   
  
Now that he was here, it was quickly occuring to Cullen that he wanted to leave. He was facing enough of his failures and demons in his own mind already-- this loss wasn't something he needed to be reminded of first hand.   
  
Scoffing silently, he lead his horse among the others, and dismounted.   
  
"Commander." His lieutenant appeared beside him. "I already had a few men scout the perimeter when we arrived. Should I call them back?"   
  
"No, no. We'll need them to warn us if The Iron Bull gets knocked unconscious." Then again, if there was something big out there, he couldn't come up with anyone better to be on the case.   
  
The tragedy that was Haven became even more real once they entered its walls. Cullen kept his face straight at the memory of his own soldiers-- and the towns people being assaulted by a rain of red lyrium before his eyes.   
  
The reports had been vague, but he couldn't imagine what kinds of people or creatures would want to occupy this space.  
  
“The last time we were here we found that the chantry’s roof had completely caved in under the snow.” Cullen overheard two members of the Charger’s talking to a few soldiers. “It wasn’t just a hole, either, half the roof was crumbled on the ground.”  
  
“Snow can do that?” The soldier gasped.  
  
Cullen wondered that himself as they seemed to be headed toward the old chantry house. It was the only building that still retained the appearance of a structure with four walls. In fact, from where he stood, it looked perfectly in tact aside from being buried in snow.  
  
When they arrived in front of it, he still couldn’t see that the roof was gone. But he imagined once they stepped inside, it would be obvious.  
  
Krem was leading up the group— which made sense since Cullen’s official orders to his soldiers had been to defer to the Charger’s leadership and instruction during this mission. With Bull off dragon-hunting, Krem was technically the highest authority under that order.  
  
So, when he lifted his hand in front of the Chantry doors signaling everyone to halt, that’s what they did, Cullen included.  
  
“Do you hear that?” One of the soldiers whispered to another.  
  
“What?”  
  
Krem started to move forward slowly on his own. It was dark beyond the doors and they were only cracked open on one side. If anyone or anything was here, that was likely where they would be.  
  
“I don’t know.” The soldier said. “Sort of like… heavy breathing?”  
  
A loud shriek caught the entire group off guard, and it was followed quickly by what appeared to be a wyvern stampeding out through the chantry doors, nearly knocking Krem off his feet. He just barely managed to dodge it before it chaotically bowled into the crowd of soldiers. Some were knocked over, others moved away quickly, and others drew their weapons.  
  
“Is that a wyvern?” Cullen voiced his concern. What would a wyvern be doing all the way out here?  
  
“It’s not a wyvern.” Krem’s voice rung out, and Cullen turned his attention to find him walking backwards fast, away from the chantry.  
  
“You might want to call your soldiers back with Bull and the others.” Krem said. “That’s a dragonling…” He turned away from the partially open doors. As he did, Cullen heard a strange but familiar gurgling sound from inside the chantry.  
  
“And there’s a dragon.” Krem pointed, just as a large, orange, horned head rose above the chantry roof. It looked slightly disoriented, like it had just woken up. But with the commotion the soldiers were causing as they fought of the dragonling, it wouldn’t take long for it to notice them.  
  
“Maker’s breath…” Cullen couldn’t believe his eyes. There was actually a high dragon here?  
  
He braced himself as he saw it turn to face the crowd, watched it slowly open it’s mouth and release a deafening shriek— but it was better than a rain of fire. There was likely no longer any need to alert the scouting soldiers to bring back the Inquisitor. They had to have heard that, and The Iron Bull would come running.  
  
But— the question remained, would it be soon enough?  
  
A hoard of dragonlings poured out of the chantry door’s forcing them open. These ones came out more organized, more calm than the first, but just as aggressive.  
  
Cullen drew his sword and rushed toward them. He looked to where three of them were closing in on Krem just in time to see him swing his hammer and knock one clear aside with a clean blow to the head. That one wouldn’t be getting up soon.  
  
He worried that this left Krem open to the others, but too his surprise, as another lunged in, jaws open, Krem leaned back and kicked out his leg to stop it with a foot hard to its chest, and sent it flying back into the third one. They both stumbled clumsily over one another as he immediately raised the hammer above his head and brought it down on a fourth.  
  
Cullen was standing, watching with his mouth hanging open for just a moment, before Krem looked at him with the most outraged expression.  
  
“You know I could use some help!” He barked. Cullen immediately snapped out of it, and pushed himself off his toe to hurry to Krem’s side. A few of the other soldiers had moved in as well so the hoard was more divided.  
  
“Enjoying the show, were you?” Krem asked, sounding mildly annoyed amidst holding off the dragons when Cullen arrived at his side.  
  
“Perhaps.” Cullen said, only somewhat apologetically as he held up his shield to them, and Krem cackled at his surprisingly honesty.  
  
His laugh was short lived, the sound of enormous, beating wings caused them both to frown, and look up.  
  
The high dragon had taken flight.  
  
“Shit.” Cullen shouted to the soldiers. “Take shelter in the chantry! She’s going to spit fire!” He ordered, but all of the men were too preoccupied with their fights to turn their backs and run, and many were already wounded. The sheer amount of dragonlings was ridiculous, but if that damn high dragon just weren’t there Cullen knew they could be run off with minimal casualties or wounds.  
  
As it circled around, the dragon seemed to be looking straight at Cullen. He watched it pull it’s neck back, and his feet started to move on their own. He grabbed Krem by the arm, who was battling with a dragonling for the handle of his hammer. Cullen shoved him away, forcing him to drop and leave it as he dragged him out of the high dragon’s line of fire.  
  
He ended up pushing Krem off his feet, but at least he was out of the area. He hit his knees next to Krem and turned to shout to the others “Get down!” But just as he did, just as he could see the bright orange light in the high dragon’s throat, she was hit in the neck with an onslaught of ice magic from below.  
  
Cullen couldn’t see anyone, they must’ve been lower in the valley, but he could hear Iron Bull’s excited shouting. And the high dragon had effectively turned her attention.  
  
“He’s always had great timing.” Krem said, sitting up and laughing. Cullen let out a deep breath he’d been holding in with relief. The men could handle themselves.  
  
Krem had started to push himself to his feet when, a single, particularly large dragonling came hurling through the air with a shriek and landed on top of him, pushing him back down into the snow with it’s front claws and snapping frantically at his throat.  
  
Cullen shouted intelligibly and scrambled to his feet, sword in hand. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, and he could see the thing’s claws ripping into the weak spots in Krem’s armor, digging and tearing into him repeatedly with both claws as he used both hands to hold its jaws away from his face.  
  
Cullen took his sword to the beast with no hesitation, running the blade hard through the back of its neck, just beneath the skull. Krem was could see the shimmer of metal force its way through the back of the dragonling’s throat, just above its tongue, coated in blood. It seeped over its teeth, and dripped down onto his face. The dragon’s body went slack on Cullen’s sword.  
  
As soon as the pressure went away, the pain on his torso set in and his arms fell to the sides, just as Cullen yanked his sword out of the dragonling and shoved the carcass hard to the side.  
  
He returned to Krem’s side as quickly as he could and further tore into the fabric that had been torn by the dragon’s claws. Hurriedly, he worked to remove the chest piece of his armor, and ripped open his shirt to reveal several criss-crossing scratches across his stomach where the mail had been thin. They were all bleeding heavily, but two near the side looked especially deep, and possibly life threatening.  
  
Krem’s breath was heaving, but he seemed to be holding back any cries of pain or distress. His eyes were fixed on the sky.  
  
Cullen moved further up beside him as he lie on the floor and put his hand on his face, nudging his palm against. “You’re going to be fine.” He assured. Krem didn’t seem able to speak, he swallowed hard and frantically searched for Cullen’s hand with one of his own, and when he found it, he squeezed it tightly.  
  
“You’ll be okay.” Cullen said again, and Krem seemed to relax more with this reassurance. “I promise.”  
  
He looked back to find that the soliders had beaten back most of the other dragonlings, and that many of them were running in the direction of the high dragon, likely hoping for her protection.  
  
“Lieutenant.” Cullen shouted to one of his men. “Take half of those who are still standing, pursue those dragons, the Inquisitor may need assistance!” He called. “And I need a healer over here, immediately!”  
  
The solider nodded quickly, and immediately turned to a pair of mages that were at one of the other wounded soldier’s side, and signaled one to go to the commander.  
  
“Cullen.” Krems shaking, broken voice came from behind him, and Cullen turned back to him. “Just…” He started, and then had to swallow his own pain. “…don’t leave?” He was still squeezing Cullen’s hand tightly.  
  
Cullen didn’t look away from his eyes, nodding in confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere. The mage arrived, and Cullen was pleased that she didn’t waste time asking questions before she held her hands over the wounded area and began to heal him.  
  
Krem seemed to relax immediately as she did, as if the pain were beginning to lessen already.  
  
“Is it bad?” He asked.  
  
Cullen don’t know why, but he almost laughed. “No.” He shook his head assertively back and forth. “You’re absolutely fine.”  
  
“Must not look as bad as it feels.” Krem managed to say, as he tried to lift his head up to try and see.  
  
Cullen didn’t want him to see. The blood slowly oozing out of the cuts and pooling on his skin, smeared all over him and soaking into his torn shirt. The two scratches in particular, so deep you could make out the dark tissue of organs on the service, though thankfully they didn’t appear damaged when Cullen had seen them before.  
  
He didn’t want Krem to see. So as he lifted his head to try to look, Cullen dipped his head down, and kissed his mouth.  
  
He felt Krem’s breath pause, tenser at first, and then relax completely, letting his head fall back again to rest on the soft snow as he was kissed, gently. After a few moments, Cullen pulled back.  
  
Krem looked at him in wonder for a few moments, before he smirked slightly. Cullen’s face was beat red, and not just from the cold, and he was looking down at Krem with slightly parted lips, and half-hooded eyes.  
  
Because he needed to, Krem lifted a hand, and placed it on the side of his face. Cullen immediately leaned into it, closing his eyes at the touch for just a moment before opening them to meet his again.  
  
“Cullen.” Krem said, his voice soft, barely there.  
  
“Yes…” Cullen seemed to be in something of a daze as well.  
  
“I’m gonna pass out.”  
  
Cullen had to run the words through his head a few times before they registered, and his eyes widened, just a moment before Krem’s fell shut, and his head lulled to one side.  
  
“Keep him alive!” Cullen immediately turned to the mage and ordered.  
  
“Don’t worry commander, he’s just fainted from the blood loss.” She said, and he was a little surprised when he recognized her. “It’s like you said, he’ll be fine.” It was Dalish, the elven archer for the chargers, the one often seen at Iron Bull’s side with a few select others including Krem.  
  
“You’re a mage?” He said, blinking.  
  
“What? Of course not.” She was smirking slightly, he could see, but not looking at him.   
Trying to ignore his embarrassment considering she’d likely seen what he’d just done, Cullen turned his attention back to Krem’s face. He didn’t like the way his head was turned and buried partially in the snow. He reluctantly dropped Krem’s hand, and quickly pulled off his pauldron, folding it as best he could, and lifted Krem’s head to place it underneath.  
  
“I’ll get to the supplies and return with a cot and some men.” Cullen said as he stood.  
  
“I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.” She said, and she was his friend, so he trusted her.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Krem turned out to be among the few seriously wounded to the point of losing consciousness. Lavellan, Iron Bull, and the others had managed to take down the high dragon as well with minimal injury, as well as run off the remaining dragonlings.  
  
“That was awesome, Commander!” Iron Bull closed in on Cullen almost immediately when he returned, likely because he was the first familiar face that met the four of them. “You really did a good job luring her out!” He laughed heartily, clearly still high from the fight, and covered in dragon blood.  
  
His laughter died down, likely because he needed to breath, and he met Cullen’s serious eyes, and asked. “So, where’s Krem?”  
  
Cullen paused a moment, and then spoke. “He was wounded.”  
  
Iron Bull’s expression changed immediately. His grin vanished.  
  
“He’s going to be all right, but he’s unconscious.” Cullen said. Iron Bull looked down at him, silently, for just a few moments.  
  
Then he looked away, eyes moving to the place where the other wounded soldiers were getting patched up. In a somewhat harsh tone, he said. “He’d better be.” And then walked around Cullen, aggressively bumping his shoulder as he did, and heading in the direction of their make-shift infirmary.  
  
Varric stopped in front of him next. “You all right, Commander?” He asked.  
  
“No.” Cullen scoffed, glaring at a spot of blood in the snow. Three soldiers had been killed, a dozen or so wounded. He hadn’t expected this kind of battle from the report, if it had been more clear, they could have come more prepared.  
  
“If the Inquisitor hadn’t tagged along with you three on a whim, we’d likely all be dead.” He said, gritting his teeth. “Something has to be done about the quality of Leliana’s scouting job. Clearly their reports were greatly under exaggerated.”  
  
“I agree, but at least we made it.” Varric said. Cullen scoffed, stressfully rubbing the back of his neck, unable to meet Varric’s eyes. If things had gone differently maybe even if he hadn’t been present, _Krem_ would be dead.  
  
“Well, good to see we’re all still standing.” Dorian appeared next to Varric’s side, appearing peppy as usual, but also splattered in blood. “Are you all right?” He noticed Cullen. “You don’t look it.”  
  
Cullen sighed, and scoffed. “I’m…”  
  
“It’s all right, Curly. Relax. You act like you’ve never gone into battle blindly before.” He spoke just as Lavellan appeared at his side.  
  
“I just…” He took a deep breath, and let it out slow. “It’s been a while. We almost lost… the Charger’s lieutenant.”  
  
“Cremisius?” Dorian’s eyes widened with concern, and he stood taller to try and see over Cullen’s shoulder.  
  
“He’s all right.” Cullen clarified.  
  
“Then drop the destroyed puppy look, would you?” Dorian barked, “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He snuffed, and started to walk around him. Lavellan followed after him.  
  
“I didn’t realize you and Krem were close?” Lavellan said to Dorian as they walked off.  
  
“Of course we are! I had to find someone who understands what barbarians you southerners are!” His voice became weaker as they walked away, and Varric stayed in front of Cullen.  
  
“You gonna be okay, Curly?” He asked. Cullen sighed heavily, once again, and nodded.  
  
“I’m fine.” He said, with an unconvincing harshness and waved Varric off. He found an excuse to walk away from him in the form of his lieutenant seeming to have finished the official report on the wounded and dead. He was thankful to have something to distract him.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Lavellan, Cullen, and a few others came to the conclusion that it would be best for the wounded if they returned to Haven as soon as possible, and that there were enough able men to carry them as well as the few dead.  
  
Scouts went ahead to report the damages, and then as a group, they set off.  
  
Krem regained consciousness half-way through the trip. Cullen, who’d been walking along beside him on his horse, saw him move his head, and dismounted immediately to hurry to his side.  
  
He didn’t seem to enjoy opening his eyes.  
  
But once they were open he managed to snort ironically. “You’re like a mother hen.” He said.  
  
Cullen signaled the men to carrying him to stop walking. “Most sincere apologies that you had to wake up to my face.” He said, humorously.  
  
Krem hummed, seeming still a big disoriented. “Not sure I mind that.” The sides of his lips twitched, like he was trying to smile. Then he cringed in pain. Cullen’s expression changed to worry as Krem shifted in the cot, turning his head on its side.  
  
“You should rest.” Cullen said, and he watched Krem’s throat move as he swallowed, and nodded in compliance, before shutting his eyes.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
They returned to Skyhold upon a later evening. Krem and the others were brought straight to the infirmary for more involved treatment. Cullen remembered looking at the building from a distance, wondering how things were going inside, but knowing he shouldn’t bother the healers and doctors for at least the first day.  
  
He had a lot of work to do, anyway. He felt, he’d better pre-occupy himself.  
  
Much of the next day was spend the same way, following up on the information after the battle. He’d even managed to get in a spat with Leliana over the misguidance of her scouts reports. He knew that mistakes were made, but it was hard _not_ to be angry.  
  
It was almost nightfall by the time Cullen was able to visit the infirmary. The surgeons were still hard at work, but Cullen managed to gather the attention of a few.  
  
“Where is Cremisius Aclassi being held?” He asked. The healer turned away from him, gathering a list of patient reports, and looked it over. As she was, one of the nurses who seemed to have overheard, raised a hand to get Cullen’s attention.  
  
“He left about an hour ago.” The man said.  
  
“Left?” Cullen turned back to the healer with the report. She nodded, confirming having found the information.  
  
“He insisted.” She said. “Says here he just up and walked out, insisting he was fine.”  
  
Cullen scoffed. “And you just let him?” He said. “Are you sure he was all right?” The last thing anyone needed was to find the man bleeding somewhere and barely conscious.  
  
“He was stitched up well, one of the first to be treated. He should have stayed on bedrest longer. But we have a lot of patients here, we didn’t have time to wrestle one back into bed and insist he stay.”  
  
Cullen sighed heavily. “All right.” He said, and turned to leave.  
  
He made a point to check Krem’s usual hangouts. When he found some of the chargers, he asked them if they’d seen him, but they said no. He asked Bull as well, and his answer was that he should have still been in the infirmary. The followed it up with that he better still have been.  
  
Cullen decided not to rat Krem out to his “mother”, and simply nodded in thanks and feigned heading in that direction.  
  
In the end, he made the decision to return to his office. He didn’t need the man knowing he’d searched half of Skyhold for him by searching the other half as well. He could take care of himself, and Cullen was exhausted.  
  
He was glad to find that there were no waiting soldiers outside the door when he arrived, and was able to enter in peace. He stepped in slowly with a heavy, relieved sigh, and shut the door gently behind him.   
As he turned, he nearly jumped when his eyes crossed the shadowed figure next to the door opposite the one he’d come in through. Krem had his hands in his front pockets, and he was leaned casually against the wall, everything but his face illuminated.  
  
Cullen’s eyes raked up from one of his hands to his shoulder, before stopping on his face.  
  
“Oh.” So… this is where he’d been. Cullen considered his words carefully, he didn’t want Krem to know he’d been looking for him. “Was there anything you needed?” He asked.  
  
“Well I wouldn’t say _need_.” Krem ducked his head forward into the dim candle light which illuminated his face, and Cullen’s breath caught in his throat, he had to look away.  
  
“I just wanted to thank you.” Krem said. “For standing by me.”  
  
Cullen swallowed. He remembered— he was the one who knocked Krem down in the first place, trying to get him out of the way of the oncoming flame. He was the reason he’d been caught off guard.  
  
“I’m sorry for what happened to you.”  
  
“Nothing did, thanks to you.”  
  
“I was _right there_ and I—,”  
  
“I’m alive.” Krem interrupted. “Grateful for that, actually. Not really unhappy about anything at all. Besides, it’s not your job to coddle me, is it?”  
  
“No— I’m well aware you can hold your own, I just—,”  
  
“Just say “you’re welcome”.” Krem interrupted.  
  
Cullen shook his head, laughing slightly and then nodded. “You’re welcome.” He said, and then added. “Anytime.”  
  
Silence followed, maybe more comfortably for one than the other. Cullen took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he leaned over his desk. Krem was quiet, and Cullen had a feeling in his gut as to what was on his mind. It was on his own mind, too, but he didn’t know what to do with it.  
  
He curled his hands tightly into fists, and then released them. He lifted his eyes to Krem once more, slowly, and he could make out his face in the shadow. Or was he just so well-versed on the shape of it that he imagined the soft glow of highlight against every contour?  
  
Cullen looked away again, his brow furrowing, his fingers tingling with need so much that he idly reached out to touch the nearest item on his desk. Then he felt ridiculous and quickly retracted his hand back to his side.  
  
“I should go.” He said quickly. And despite the fact that this was his office, that he’d only just stepped into, he turned away from the desk, and started to leave. Toward the door opposite the one Krem stood next to, of course.  
  
“Commander Cullen.” Krem’s voice called after him, and no other words followed.  
  
Cullen stopped in his tracks, and turned back.   
  
Hurried steps carried him across the office in a blink. He stopped, so close to the other man that he could have touched his hand from his side were he to reach out with his fingers. For all his resolve, and the quick pace that had carried him here, he was hesitating.  
  
He studied Krem’s face for a moment. He wasn’t moving. He was just… waiting.  
  
Cullen would later be unable to recall any thought that crossed his mind between the moment his eyes fell upon his lips, and the moment he leaned in.  
  
At first there was no response. Cullen’s kiss was gentle, still, just a touch at first. Then Krem exhaled softly against it, as if he’d been holding his breath, and returned the pressure. He didn’t move anything but his lips, the rest of him stayed slack against the wall, but he stole Cullen’s breath, and stole control.  
  
Cullen’s hands lifted to his face, held his cheeks as he tilted his head one way, and then the other. His left hand snaked up the side of Krem’s face and his fingers wove into his hair. What had held him back from this for so long?  
  
Krem’s tongue took him by surprise. His eyes went from gently closed to wide-open as it smoothly slid passed his lips and between his teeth and dragged over the roof of his mouth.  
  
Cullen felt his mouth vibrate, and it took him a moment to realize that the moan was his own. As soon as his tongue retracted, Cullen had to back away.  
  
His breath heaved as he idly let his hands drag down the other man’s face. He searched Krem’s eyes for something, an answer, but found nothing but a reflection of his own uncertainty.   
  
Then a smile broken out over Krem’s mouth, which, after a few moments, turned out to be contagious as Cullen caught the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile as well. He looked away quickly, and then found himself laughing, and shook his head.  
  
“What’s funny?” Krem asked, face still displaying amusement.  
  
“I…” Cullen started, but his lips sputtered. “Just… that…” He took a deep breath to gather his words and speak properly. “That was nice.”   
  
Krem’s smile cracked wider to show teeth, and he nodded once. “Not like it’s the first time.”  
  
“No, I suppose not.” Cullen said, as he backed off a little. “I should be going.” He said. This time, Krem didn’t object, and he may have let his index finger drag over Krem’s bottom lip as he turned away, and left the office. Krem decided not to remind him that he’d only just arrived.   
  
He let his eyes drift to the desk and the items scattered about on top of it, and wondered if Cullen often trusted people enough to leave them alone in his quarters.  
  
Shrugging slightly, he snickered, and carefully pulled himself away from the wall with a cringe in the first step. Walking hurt— moving hurt, everything hurt. But coming up here had been more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krem and me are both mad that he's been partially incapacitated for both of these kisses. Once he's back at 100% he's gonna kiss the hell out of this blond dork and show him how it's done.
> 
> Promises for next chapter: Slight awkwardness followed by some heat.


End file.
